


I cannot, cannot go

by neverending_story



Category: Homeland
Genre: Death, F/M, Love, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-20 02:12:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverending_story/pseuds/neverending_story
Summary: She just cannot, will not let him go. The postponed story for April 28th.





	I cannot, cannot go

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write a story some time ago. I thought I was going to write something else. Thing is, it's still difficult to go back to those imaginary versions of Carrie and Quinn. It's still difficult to try to write something even moderately happy right now. It's difficult to finish old ideas and stories waiting to be given closure and the intended ending when the hope is taken. Perhaps later. Hopefully soon. Instead, this little piece came to me recently. I'm sorry that it's not happy.
> 
>  
> 
> The night is darkening round me,  
> The wild winds coldly blow;  
> But a tyrant spell has bound me,  
> And I cannot, cannot go. 
> 
> The giant trees are bending  
> Their bare boughs weighed with snow;  
> The storm is fast descending,  
> And yet I cannot go. 
> 
> Clouds beyond clouds above me,  
> Wastes beyond wastes below;  
> But nothing drear can move me;  
> I will not, cannot go. 
> 
> EMILY BRONTË

She asked for a few more minutes.

Barely moving, staring blankly in front of her, she sensed a glimpse of concern on someone's face. Couldn't even fathom who that was.

They're alone now. She's still sitting at the rear of the car, watching the back of his head. He looks as if he's taking a nap. They're on a mission together and he just needed a few minutes to doze off. Has he ever done that? She can't recall.

 _Mission. Mission. Mission_.

Truth is, he _was_ her mission. But at the same time, he wasn't.

She raises her hand and moves it slowly towards his shoulder. It's only now she notices she's trembling. She touches him lightly as if to wake him up. Gently.

_Hey. We're gotta go._

His sleep is too deep.

She wonders what it is he's dreaming of. She closes her eyes as if to merge their dreams into one.

All she sees is black. All she hears is the ringing. She's not sure if it's the sirens from the street or the voices in her own head.

She takes a deep breath and leans in. As she's trying to get to the front, her cheek brushes against a strand of his hair. A single string in her heart suddenly breaks. If there was a piano hidden in her chest, a couple of keys would stop working.

She finally looks at him.

Maybe the reason she hasn’t checked on him before is because he _is_ just unconscious and he’ll wake up soon. Maybe if she brushed her lips against his right now, just to give him some warmth and take his in return, he’d open his eyes. He’d smile and say, like he always does -  
_I’m okay. It’s nothing. I’ll be fine._

She almost starts to believe this sudden glimpse of hope, because the corners of her mouth are curling into a smile. 

Looking at him now, she realizes how, despite the almost unnoticeable blood spread across his cheeks, she’s seeing the features of his face anew. 

She moves nearer and nearer, with each inch that brings her closer to him, feeling an urge to close the space between them and just melt into him as if he was a wave. A morning mist on a summer dawn.

When she finally reaches the borders of his body, she puts her head against his chest; instinctively, as if to prove to herself that she isn’t wrong. The sudden proximity of their bodies breaks her to pieces. As well as the realization that she doesn’t hear it. His heart has lost a string too.

She holds onto him. Desperately. But it’s really only _her_ this time. 

Tears are forming in her eyes, feeble streams are turning into waterfalls as she’s realizing that it’s only now - after all these months, maybe years she’s been thinking about herself, about _her_ struggles and fears, and about _him_ and his long pilgrimage from the darkness - _only now_ she’s thinking about _them_ , seeing it all in front of her eyes, in her heart, the strings are forming into chords and she feels it all at once - the unyielding pain and _love_. Love that is indescribable. Love that had been lost and found. Found, and lost again. Love that will perhaps grow stronger with time, because it will never ever happen. 

Unbreakable. Eternal. And true. 

_I shouldn't have asked you to go with me. I shouldn't have let you. I should've told you. You should've known._

He’s still warm. As she's gently moving her mouth to reach his, a part of her _still_ believing he might wake up any second, she finally says those three words.

She knows she’ll have to stop herself from imagining the possibility of their absurd feature together, but not yet. So she lets the images flow through her, perforating her heart like delicate crystals, leaving holes that will probably never fully heal.

The night is darkening around them.

The cold winds grieve and blow.

And she just cannot, will not let him go.

The heart strings are still breaking

The rivers full of pain still flow

But she has to do this; say goodnight and let him...


End file.
